


just like he knows everything

by clasch



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Benny Lafitte Takes Care of Dean Winchester, Cross-Posted on Tumblr, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:34:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23596939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clasch/pseuds/clasch
Summary: It's cold and Benny's sweaters are warm, that's all.
Relationships: Benny Lafitte/Dean Winchester
Comments: 14
Kudos: 85





	just like he knows everything

Dean didn’t _mean_ for it to happen. Not exactly. It’s just that, well, he woke up cold one morning in November and pulled a thick gray pullover sweater from the drawer and, in his groggy, pre-first-cup-of-coffee state, didn’t realize it was Benny’s at first. He just slipped it on and appreciated the immediate warmth and didn’t notice that the sleeves were a bit too long and the shoulders were a bit too broad and – okay, he definitely knew it was Benny’s sweater all along. But in his defense, the sweater ended up in _his_ drawer for some reason. Not sure how that happened, of course. It just got mixed in with Dean’s other chunky old-timey-boat-captain sweaters. That he definitely owned. And kept in the bottom drawer of his bedside table.

Okay, so maybe Dean planned the whole thing the last time he did the laundry. But Benny’s sweaters are so… _cozy._ Dean frigging Winchester stole his boy – well, _Benny’s_ sweater so he could be cozy.

That, it turned out, was a slippery slope.

By January, Dean has _borrowed_ three chunky old-timey-boat-captain sweaters (the original gray one, a blue one with a thick cable down the center and both sleeves, and a forest green one with a _turtleneck,_ for chrissake) and four pairs of thick knitted socks. They’re all folded neatly in Dean’s bedside table and he bundles up in them when Benny works nights at the diner. It’s cold, he argues with himself whenever he pulls them out. It’s cold and Benny’s sweaters are warm, that’s all.

And – well, they smell like Benny.

He pulled on the green sweater, his sweats, and a gray pair of socks that night before bed and burrowed his nose right into the neck of the sweater. It’s Benny’s third night shift in a row after not working any for a week and Dean misses him, the warm line of his body against Dean’s back, the strong curl of his arm around Dean’s middle. Wrapping up in Benny’s clothes isn’t quite the same, but Dean hugs his arms around his shoulders anyway where he’s curled up on Benny’s side of the bed and eventually falls asleep.

Dean wakes up sometime around dawn when he’s gently shifted away from the edge of the bed so Benny can climb in behind him. He sighs at the added warmth, lets his eyes close as Benny works his nose under the turtleneck to nuzzle at Dean’s neck…

Wait.

Realistically, Dean knew that Benny must know about the sweaters, but he didn’t say anything, so Dean didn’t say anything either. He just kept quietly sneaking Benny’s clothes from the laundry and pulling them on when Benny worked nights because, apparently, Dean is a huge frigging sap. But Benny’s never caught him wearing them before. Dean’s always careful to set an alarm so he can tuck them back in the drawer before Benny gets home in the morning, even though he rarely gets back to sleep after taking them off. Too cold. Too…lonely. Dean just lies there and waits for the soft click of the door opening and closing, the even softer kiss Benny presses to the back of his neck.

“Looks good on you,” Benny says, nose shockingly cold against Dean’s warm skin. “Glad you’re still wearin’ it.”

Dean twists around in Benny’s arms to face him, heart beating in his throat. “You don’t mind?”

Benny laughs, then. It’s a kind laugh, one that’s reserved for quiet moments with Dean. Moments like this when they’re tangled together in the warm cocoon of their bed, Benny carding his fingers through Dean’s hair or gently scratching long lines up and down Dean’s back. “Got this one to match your eyes.”

It’s still hard for Dean to say, even after all this time, even when Benny says things like _that._ The words still get stuck in Dean’s throat. But Benny understands, like he always does, and gives him the out, like he always does. “Je t’aime, cher,” he says, wrapping his arms more tightly around Dean so Dean can bury his face in Benny’s shoulder. Benny knows it’s easier in French, just like he knows when Dean’s only pretending to sleep, just like he knows everything.

They lie there for a long time, Dean warm inside and out. _Cozy,_ and not embarrassed about it anymore. He’ll wear this chunky green old-timey-boat-captain sweater every night for the rest of winter, even when Benny’s home at night. He’ll crank up the air conditioning in summer and wear it then too. He’ll wear it because that’s something he _can_ do. And he can say this, lips moving against Benny’s shoulder, safe and warm in the circle of Benny’s arms in their bed in the gray morning light of early January: “Moi aussi.”

**Author's Note:**

> again big thanks to chayya for the idea that it's easier in french ♥ come find me on tumblr! [ @good-things-do-happen-dean](https://good-things-do-happen-dean.tumblr.com/).


End file.
